


the burden of sexuality.

by Prettything_uglylie



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Asphyxiation, Autoerotic Asphyxiation, Banter, Canon Compliant, Clothed Sex, Come Eating, Come Marking, Comfort Sex, Competition, Crack Treated Seriously, Dacryphilia, Dirty Talk, Dry Humping, Embarrassment, Emotional Sex, Explicit Sexual Content, F/F, F/M, Femdom, Fights Turned Sexual, First Time Bottoming, Gags, Humiliation, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Masochism, Multiple Orgasms, Objectification, Orgasm Control, Orgasm Denial, Polyamory, Praise Kink, Predicament Bondage, Pump Gags, Riding, Rope Bondage, Rough Sex, Sadism, Safe Sane and Consensual, Safewords, Sparring, Spreader Bars, Strap-Ons, Teasing, Threats of Pain, Verbal Humiliation, Vibrators, chapter1:, chapter2:, chapter3:, chapter4:, chapter5:, chapter6:, chapter7:, consensual tho, last chapter ended up being more of a BEAST than i planned for, lots of teasing as well, unsafe practices
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-09
Updated: 2020-08-26
Packaged: 2021-03-05 02:47:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 5,396
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25167172
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Prettything_uglylie/pseuds/Prettything_uglylie
Summary: When all other muse fails, I have written a fic for collections of smut muses. I hope you enjoy it!
Relationships: Bellamy Blake/Clarke Griffin/John Murphy, Bellamy Blake/John Murphy, Clarke Griffin/John Murphy, Echo/Emori (The 100), Finn Collins/Clarke Griffin, Octavia Blake/Raven Reyes
Comments: 6
Kudos: 31





	1. grounder training; murphy/bellamy.

**Author's Note:**

> These are all written out of horny thoughts so enjoy, I guess?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Arms tied, you lose everything," Bellamy starts and is surprised even he can keep his voice firm when Murphy is splayed out like that: back arched, hands tied around the pillar of their tent and stark naked, already prepared for what eventually will happen when his patience inevitably snaps. He hasn't yet though, no, he's just getting started really. "What defense do you have?" 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is set around season 1 and prior to episode 4, the dynamic is a bit off and Bellamy is a bit of a dick in this fic. Anyways, I hope you like this!

"Arms tied, you lose everything," Bellamy starts and is surprised even he can keep his voice firm when Murphy is splayed out like that: back arched, hands tied around the pillar of their tent and stark naked, already prepared for what eventually will happen when his patience inevitably snaps. He hasn't yet though, no, he's just getting started really. "What defense do you have?" 

Murphy's face buries in the ground for a second, pressing against the wide-stretched plastic of the tent floor before he arches his back slightly and a leg flails out. He gives a firm tug to the knot tying his wrists to the beam and even as Bellamy rubs a hand over his hard length in his pants, he is sure that the knot or ropes will not budge - he had learned something from guard training on the Ark after all. Murphy's breathing is rough when he rasps, "I have my legs." 

His amusement is felt around them and he begins to unbuckle his jeans which almost disappoints him as it proves that he will indeed be fucking Murphy faster than he had intended to by the course of the conversation. 

"That fails." 

"No, it doesn't." Murphy sneers determinedly and flays his legs out yet again in a subdued kicking motion that makes Bellamy have to dig his teeth into his bottom lip to stifle a chuckle. _What a brat,_ he thinks, shaking his head.

He gets on his knees behind Murphy's body laying on the tent floor and presses his entire body into the younger boy and laying almost as though he's dead weight. Murphy starts to struggle against the weight as though he will be able to shift out from under Bellamy but he just presses himself deeper into Murphy until the squirming stops. He gasps out, "Bellamy -" 

"What do you do now?" He says sternly and Murphy arches his back enough for Bellamy to want to just open the younger boy up around him but he has not gotten where he wants to be by giving into his every whim.

Murphy arches his back, head falling between his shoulders where he's shifted up on his elbows and falls into the ground below them both. It makes Bellamy feel hard done by, something about seeing Murphy laying down and all submissively posed when he's usually all hurricane strength and snarking grit will always get him going. His voice is almost small when he asks, "Please, Bell, please." 

He's frozen where he's unweaving his belt from its loops. No one calls him 'Bell' except Octavia and their nicknames on the Ark had been yet another thing that had bonded the two of them - this _boy_ who both feels like a stranger and like he intimately knows him. It fills him with irrational anger, sends his fist curling into Murphy's hair to pull it back and like cracked open, a desperate and almost pained cry falls from the boy's lips. 

"Don't call me that," he snarls but lets go of the hold when he realizes he may have lashed out unfairly. He doesn't apologize, Murphy can't have that moment of weakness to use against him. He presses his dick into Murphy's entrance, "You're pinned down. What do you do?" 

The shrug would be untraceable if they were not so close but they are and he can feel it. He pushes his dick all the way in and enjoys the way that Murphy's tight heat seems to massage him with his warm inner walls and he stifles a groan. This is about Murphy's "survival training". 

"What would you do, Murphy? Lay on your stomach and beg them to fuck you instead of killing you?" He rasps, making shallow thrusts in and out of Murphy's tight ass and even if he wants to fuck Murphy properly, he tries to continue with a bit of professionalism. 

The younger boy makes a noise that is both frightened and grateful and it makes Bellamy smother a groan into his hair. Something about the imagery of a group of savage Grounders gathered around Murphy with his hands tied to the pole and his ass in the air like this as he begs them to fuck him in a language they may not understand is both erotic and sad - they may waste that opportunity and Bellamy is honest when he says the chance is entirely worth it. 

"I guess." Murphy admits, voice breaking and hollow in a way but he's still rocking back into Bellamy's thrusts and every once in awhile his wrists pull at the bondage but never break. It feels good, like a nice fight or like getting told he's done well to Bellamy and the bonds are just a testament to that. 

Bellamy lifts his hips and body up to begin to fuck Murphy but not before retorting, hand dropping down to smack his ass, "Worth the try." 

( Two weeks later, Murphy comes back alive and Bellamy prays that his teachings weren't involved by the amount of debased Murphy is. He doesn't ask. He doesn't want the answer. ) 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yikes, the angst, the tension! I hope you liked this and kudos and comments keep me fed!


	2. sparring: echo/emori.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I'm not doing this anymore," She groans after being hit in the ribs for the umpteenth time by the shorter girl and begins to pull away. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Today is being oddly horny for Echo and Emori day I guess? Anyways, hope you enjoy this!

They had all been aware when Murphy and Emori broke up. The girl hadn't exactly been quiet about it, loudly complaining to them at dinner until Bellamy had looked ready to snap one of the spoons between his bare hands and Murphy had reverted into hiding away from them all. It would have been hard _not_ to notice. 

However, when Emori asks her to spar, Echo agrees because Emori, despite her small stature and tendency to weasel her way out of altercations, can _fight_. Perhaps that's one of the reasons Murphy's hidden away - Echo feels bad for him in a way but Bellamy had warned of Murphy's snarky verbal lashings and she'd been on the receiving end of one of his yelling fits. 

"I'm not doing this anymore," She groans after being hit in the ribs for the umpteenth time by the shorter girl and begins to pull away. 

Emori's lips turn into a frown, eyebrows pulled together as sweat drips off of her form and asks, "Why?" her mood switches to cocky on a dime, "Scared to lose?" 

She can't lose - loss meant the death of you and everyone you loved in Azgeda. She slides down, hooking her leg around one of Emori's before pushing her down and pinning her into the mat face-first quickly. She starts imploringly, "You're such a brat." 

Emori's breath is quick though and she has arched back into Echo's thigh, which has fallen between the other girls' thighs to press against her core. 

"Ah," Echo starts as though she has just realized something, "That's why you're pissed and being a brat. Haven't gotten laid in a bit. What? Murphy doesn't punish you for being a brat anymore?" 

Emori's laugh takes her by surprise and she admits, " _John_ is the brat. You don't really think John does the fucking, do you?" 

Echo pretends not to gape at the words and the idea of it. She can't picture it in her mind's eye properly so she asks gently, "How?" 

"How," Emori parrots into the mat and Echo adjusts her hold on the girl's arms to put both of them in one hand. "I pin him down and I ride him so hard sometimes he'll beg me to stop. I've made John _cry_ I fucked him so good." 

Echo realizes belatedly that she's _soaked_ at the imagery in her mind of Emori, powerful, above Murphy as she rides him and him so sweet, weeping for her. It brings out something in her. 

She pulls Emori into her by the hair and murmurs in her ear, "If you ever want to be fucked properly, I'm here." 

The smaller girl grits out, grinning between sharp teeth, "Yes." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you like this! Comments and kudos keep me fed!


	3. denial: clarke/murphy.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clarke teases Murphy for what he should know better for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Clarke and Murphy isn't a ship I'm super into but I do like the elements of teasing here and some of the smut I've read is super good so here we have it!

"Oh, Murphy," she coos down at him as she pets the fringe away from his forehead and while she is equally torn over wanting to see the way his eyelids flicker from being pet so softly and loving the way that Murphy has been rendered completely blind with just the wrap of her scarf around his eyes, she is soaked by the fact that he is almost completely at her mercy. "You want me to ride you?" 

He nods enthusiastically, a desperate preen clawing up his throat and his arms begin to thrash at where the rope wraps them tightly to the steel bars of the headboard. He seems beyond words, at least for now, with her sunk all the way onto his dick and not moving while he squirms beneath her. She's wet, she knows and Clarke already knows how she'll deal with it - maybe get off of him and move up to straddle his head and tell him _clean me nicely,_ which Murphy will do eagerly and then smirk about when she holds him after - but it's fun to see this, the way she gets so wet by just him inside of her that some of her slick stains his stomach and the way he's so desperate for her, shaking and groaning to feel more of her. 

He might be mad later, Clarke knows but doesn't care. The most he'll be is a little bitchier than normal and maybe, if he's too far gone, he might cry a bit. She isn't going to let him cum. 

His voice is a hiccuping gasp, chest rising and falling desperately when he breathes and his hips do a small jerk up that makes her bite her lip to not make a noise. She is ready to scold him for the action but then his voice tumbles out of those bitten lips much softer than he usually would, "Please, Princess." 

She thinks about reconsidering if he should be allowed to cum. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can we tell I'm a little into bottom!Murphy? listen, i just think everyone should be allowed to fuck the twink lmao 
> 
> Anyways, thanks for reading! Kudos and comments and even prompts are great!


	4. string me up; bellamy/murphy.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I think," Bellamy starts, laying back on the cot the Ark has given them all like they don't ache and poke and are generous in their dispersement but admiring the view and prone like a king, Bellamy is casual within his own confidence, "I should string you up from the roof above the bed next time." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set around season two, in the fallen Ark ship and did carry a few references to the hanging! i wrote this quickly, i hope you like it!

"I think," Bellamy starts, laying back on the cot the Ark has given them all like they don't ache and poke and are generous in their dispersement but admiring the view and prone like a king, Bellamy is casual within his own confidence, "I should string you up from the roof above the bed next time." 

The stool tilts and Bellamy's eyes are drawn to the movement in case he needs to cut the scene off. They had discussed it though, and Murphy had seemed comfortable with the idea of perhaps enduring the noose without the stool there to hold him up. 

_Murphy_ is tied to the roof by a part of the rafter, neck wrapped in the scratchy fabric, and gagged properly. He's hard, his dick hanging out of his pants as so and Bellamy finds the sadistic part of himself hoping that the fly of Murphy's jean is scratching painfully against his dick. They're both clothed - it's a distance Bellamy despises but Murphy has been firm in, only ever stripping himself of his jacket stiffly but Bellamy is so hard, even with Murphy decked up in his jeans and a t-shirt. It hangs off of him nicely, too big for his surprisingly slight frame and thin-looking in material - it makes Bellamy think he could tear it off of him. Murphy's arms are bound behind his back with Bellamy's belt, his mouth gagged with one of the scrap pieces he had and his pretty blue eyes glittering with tears as he rocks back and forth precariously on a stepstool used when unable to reach. The rope isn't perfect, will probably leave Murphy wearing little scratchy red marks on his throat for the next few days or maybe bruises - it's no dropship seatbelt. 

He almost regrets not tying him the other way around so he can see the way that the rubber - Bellamy doesn't know what the object is supposed to be, had found it in the scraps as well and had scrubbed it raw for whatever it could have and had still felt dirty telling him but Murphy's cheeks had flushed and he had clutched it gently before whispering, "Please." - piece penetrates Murphy, what it looks like inside of him. 

He had thought about leaving Murphy more vulnerable than this, had tied him up and slipped the rubber into his ass and pulled his dick from his boxers and had threatened Murphy lowly, _"I shouldn't pull your pants back up, leave you flustered and exposed like this."_ and Murphy had been hot with the flush that had overtaken the tops of his cheekbones. He wanted to tan Murphy's ass that same red with his hands, make Murphy whine and flush and embarrassed with being handled like a child. 

He rubs his hand across the bulge in his pants and feels warm noticing the way Murphy's eyes flicker down to the action hungrily. 

Bellamy gestures vaguely with his hands above himself as though something is tied, "Screw an eyelet into the roof, tie you up by your neck, make you ride me." 

Murphy makes a strangled noise and shifts, causing the stool to shift as though it may be willing to spill him onto the floor or fall over and leave Murphy there choking in its wake. 

Bellamy grins, "You like that." 

There's no question there but Murphy still nods a little desperately and Bellamy shifts to his knees on the mattress as he crawls towards Murphy, close enough to wrap his around the hot flesh of Murphy's hard dick. 

"Get off before I knock the stool out from under you." Murphy makes an incoherent noise as with his other hand, Bellamy begins to rock the stool. 

He grins, eyes alit with something sadistic enough to make Murphy whimper and he threatens, "Better hurry." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i hope you enjoyed this! kudos and comments are great!


	5. humbled; bellamy blake/john murphy/clarke griffin.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While Bellamy and Clarke have their friends over for a movie night, Murphy hides in the bedroom - just not entirely on purpose.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, this chapter ended up being longer than like, every other one! I guess you can tell I was rereading Three People With Their Shoes Off (an incredible collection of clurphamy smut fic that you should check out if you haven't!) and wanted to get them off my writing list lol.   
> This also ended up being very clurphy-centric, mostly an accident but I'm content with it and kind of like it a lot tbh! Hope you like it!

The humbler fits between his thighs too well and the gag is pumped too big so it is a comparison of something that is comfortable that he'll miss and something uncomfortable he won't when taken out and off. The humbler is there to affirm that he can't press his legs together to try and alleviate the contact while the pump gag is pushed hard enough to fill his mouth to make sure the others don't hear him. 

A pointless twinge of hope hits where embarrassment might have an hour ago when he hears footsteps outside of their bedroom and Clarke's voice laughing out, "Just gotta go, you know?" 

The voice that responds to her sounds like Raven and god, it makes his whole chest flush knowing that a girl equivalent to his sister is close enough that she could hear him moan if the gag wasn't so blown up. Clarke enters their bedroom carefully, making sure no one sees him and he is grateful for small mercies. 

She loves to tease and humiliate him though so he's almost surprised she doesn't leave the door open all the way or put him on a leash and walk him around their living room in front of their friends - he hates that the idea makes his already sore cock twitch against the persistent buzz of the vibrator. It must be Bellamy's orders not to embarrass him too badly or a least not to embarrass him enough that they'd need a new friend group. 

As she makes sure the bedroom door is properly shut, she turns slowly - drama queen he craves to tease but knows he'd only get punished for it - but when she turns, the thrilled look in her eyes makes him flush again. Sometimes Clarke looks at him like he hung the stars in the sky or like he's the best Christmas gift in the world when he's sprawled out like this and feels like an idiot, and it always messes with his brain. On one hand, he hates feeling like an idiot, on the other, Clarke looks at him like that and on _another_ hand, it turns him on to feel like an idiot like nothing else. 

She looks at the frankly embarrassing amount of cum coating his chest and stomach from where the vibrator is tied against his cock and he knows she knows he still has the vibrator inside of him from when she had watched Bellamy bend him over the edge of the bed and slick him up to take the other vibrating toy into his body. It's cruel and all three of them know it and all three of them like it. 

Clarke's sky blue eyes glance over him and he wonders what she thinks for a moment before she praises, "Pretty boy, pretty boy." in a tone that is very clearly teasing but also fond and oddly genuine. It hits him somewhere in the chest that makes his already overheated body flush and also lose the ability to breathe properly for a second. 

His hips jerk. She chuckles. 

"You'd think you'd cum enough to not want another go at it, huh?" She starts and he tries to make a noise behind the gag, not because he thinks she'll understand him, mostly just for the novelty of the situation. She laughs again as she runs her pointer and middle finger through a trail of his cum to move up to brush it across his cheekbone. 

He winces away on instinct and she smiles like he's a particularly amusing cat that can't behave itself. She presses a glass against their nightstand, one he hadn't even realized she brought in so he begins to count his observation skills as out the window and suddenly the shock on both his dick and inside of him dies, drawing a whine from his throat that he hates. She moves onto the bed, eyes still brightly lit and undeniably cruel and beautiful and Murphy wants to choke her out as much as he wants to kiss her and pet her hair. Clarke tucks herself between his held open thighs, completely dressed and unbothered looking to his sweet, heat-soaked desperation - it does him in badly. 

Slowly the pressure of the dildo pump begins to deflate inside of his cheeks and he hates that he misses it, eyes going a bit glassy at the loss of something that he's grown so accustomed to. Clarke notices this and makes a noise of fake pity, leaning forward to run a hand through his fringe even as she continues to push the pump down but she smothers a laugh to taunt, "Would just rip it out of your mouth but I don't think even your big mouth could deal with that kind of damage." 

They make such a masochist of him, he's sure when he thinks that he wants her to try it. He's almost sure he wasn't this much of a pain-driven masochist before they met him and started to entertain his most painful and humiliating fantasies. 

His hips jerk and she laughs again, a cycle neither is too determined to change. 

"You'd like that, wouldn't you?" She teases, petting the hand from his fringe to his jaw, "If I just pulled this from your mouth. Like you're a little doll that I'm so eager to have my hands on I don't care if I break it?" 

His cock twitches unfairly against the limp vibrator and his whine is audible, the gag small enough that she eases out of his mouth with such care that his stomach rolls with the effort. She snorts and presses a kiss to his bruised and no longer hidden mouth before leaning away and saying affectionately, "Couldn't do that to you. We love you too much for that." 

He doesn't know what makes him say it, maybe having her this close or the new freedom that he can finally talk but as she reaches over to grab the glass of water, he rasps, voice completely wrecked, "I'd let you." 

She grinds down against where she's moved up to his stomach to reach the glass and where she straddles, he thinks he feels her grind her wetness against him or he's just sweating a lot, or it's raining on them both indoors, who even knows anymore? 

Her eyes are only fond, full of that kind of messy love that makes his chest ache and his palms sweaty, and she presses the glass to his lips. He drinks in big gulps, lets the water's coolness slip down his throat and rest in his chest to make him feel not so heat-stricken (he had had heat-stroke before, and Clarke had been there too, best friends since childhood, and she had cared for him then too but this time she and Bellamy are the ones making his whole body too hot). She takes it carefully from his lips when he's drained the whole thing and feeling better, like he could run a marathon - if the marathon is maybe to their bathroom and back to the bed in a mild crawl. He feels a bit better though. 

"You're so good to me," he pretends to swoon, voice aiming for Southern Belle but landing on scratchy and actually graceful. She looks down at him, infinitely bemused and that's how they had become friends so young, he had made her laugh and wants to spend the rest of his life doing it and hopefully Bellamy too, because he's addicted to them both and it's embarrassing that he lets them do this to him and loves it so much and he can't imagine it being anyone else. She pokes the vibrator nuzzling his cock gracelessly before firming out, 

"You know I'm the one with control over this, right?" _Like that's any less reason to like her,_ he thinks ignorantly, _like he isn't just as smitten by the Princess he met in first grade as he is by the cruel women studying martial arts and majoring in art classes who ties him up for four hours while their friends are over._

He is. He's absolutely smitten, with her, with Bellamy, with their wicked minds. He wants to kiss them both on the mouth in gratitude for this. 

He nods, smile small but all he can manage. She grins and rolls her eyes before pressing a kiss to his forehead and leaning to check the ties on his hands in order to make sure he's not cutting off circulation, her boobs in his face. He's a brat and she knows him well enough so neither of them pretends to be surprised when he leans forward to sink his teeth lightly into the flesh exposed there. His teeth are still on her when she sighs and looks at him like he's an annoying pest, "That's a bad boy, Murphy." 

He makes sure their blue eyes connect before biting down hard enough to draw blood to the skin without breaking it and she yipes, smacking her hand against the top of his head in a cruel display of domination and a bit of friendly roughhousing. 

"Should know better." He teases in that same tone she had used with him when explaining this idea that Bellamy had been grinning ear-to-ear about. 

She looks at him like she can't believe his attitude but they have been friends since they were children so there's no real way she can be surprised by it either. Clarke leans down to his face, pressing their foreheads together and his stomach jumps, she looks so powerful up close like this, and then threatens, "Don't make me put Lincoln or Miller in here, let them have a go at you before Bellamy comes in here and fucks your ass tonight. You're gonna love that, huh? When Bellamy fucks you until you come for the, _what?_ eighth time?" 

He lost track at four but it feels forever ago and he thinks she might be right. He doesn't have an answer for her. 

"Maybe I should let Raven in here, tell her to ride your dick or if you can't get this cute little thing back up," she strokes a hand over his stupid, sensitive dick that spurts a bit of cum like a warning sign, or like it too loves when Clarke humiliates him, "let her beat on you a little. That never falls to make you hard, does it, boy?" 

Her voice is a whole new level of condescending that makes him feel like she's talking to a dog, to an animal, something below animal intelligence. It makes his cock twitch in a valiant effort to get hard again. 

She pulls at his ties a little to give his arms more slack before she starts to trace the plastic of the vibrator like she can't wait to turn it back on - She probably can't, the sadist. He loves her. He loves Bellamy. He wishes they'd never let him out of this position. 

"What's your safeword?" Clarke asks, teasing gone and eyes hard in the way that he knows she wants answers.

Still, he backtalks, "Does it matter?" 

Her tone is firm and she persists, "What's your safeword?" 

"Lemonade." It's a sigh, an embarrassing story about Beyonce that he and Bellamy had found too funny when they were high once. But it makes her smile and his heart does that annoying skip again: maybe these are signs of a heart attack, he thinks. 

"And if you click the button," She guides him into finishing and he almost remembers with a jolt that he has a button in his hands that reminds him of a garage door opener. To be fair, his hands and the rest of his body except his jaw, cock, and ass have been numb since about half an hour in. He also didn't even think about using it. 

He deadpans, "it will alert the app on your phone that makes it look like a phone call and you'll come get me." 

She beams, his heart does that annoying thing and she kisses the corner of his mouth before praising, "Good boy." 

His cock jumps stupidly. 

Clarke's hands pluck at the pump gag only vaguely moved off of his face before asking, tone even, that tone she uses when she doesn't want him to pick one because he thinks she wants him to, "Do you want it blown up a little or really big?" 

He considers it. She's probably caring for him a little here, knows that his jaw will ache and crack tomorrow when he moves it or whenever he is ungagged but he wants it to. 

"Really big," he decides with the best shrug he can manage, "Wanna not be able to talk tomorrow without feeling it." 

She looks concerned but his certainty must outweigh her pause because she slips it into his mouth and pumps it four extra times than the last time until his head feels like it's going to explode and his jaw already burns. Tears pop up in his eyes but she watches him and he doesn't signal to her he regrets it - he doesn't, wants them to break his jaw with it really. Okay, so maybe he has to admit he's always been a masochist but it's fine. 

Clarke flicks both vibrators back on after crawling off of him and he can't even make a noise the gag is so big so he lets his feet kick out as much as he can, the skin of his cock rubbed raw by the vibrator's remorseless torment. It feels more powerful after the reprieve, he loves it. 

Before she leaves, Clarke pauses, seeming to notice on something before asking, "What are these on your thighs? ...Are they scratch marks?" 

He nods, trying his best not to feel like an idiot but failing while she pesters him. 

"Bellamy?" She asks unnecessarily because no one but her and Bellamy would ever touch him like that but he nods anyway, feeling like his brain bounces around his head at the motion, kicked into the back by how full he is of the pump. 

She hums smiling, "Bet you liked that. Bellamy coming in here, probably bitched about how much he wanted to fuck you already, scratched up your thighs," it's scary how well she knows them both, then she notes the cum between his thighs, "this isn't yours," their girl, could put Sherlock Holmes out of business, "did Bellamy jerk off between your thighs? Telling you how much he wanted to pull this vibrator from your ass? Fuck you while you screamed?" 

She jabs her finger into the vibrator inside of him, sending it pushed into the wall opposite his prostate and his whole body shakes with the new sensation as he nods, desperate for her to leave him alone and not and pester him all at once. 

"You just got Bellamy in trouble." Her voice seems leading but he blinks at her, unapologetic and she grins, "Vengeful little thing." 

She leaves but as she approaches the door she commands, "Try to cum a few more times. I'll make you eat it while Bellamy fucks you later." 

He shakes in his restraints and counts the seconds until they come back in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you liked this! It ended up being a real long one! Kudos and comments are adored and I think Murphy is not the only one with a praise kink so feed me please!


	6. orange and green; raven reyes/octavia blake.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Raven and Octavia discuss the new toys in their bedroom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey, i wanted to show these two some love because i really do adore them and i hope you like this little playful chapter!

“Is it supposed to look like a pumpkin?” She asks a little less kind than being outright mean but not exactly warmly. 

Octavia sighs at her girlfriend’s antics before affirming gently, “It’s supposed to look like a strap-on.” 

And Raven knows that it is a strap-on, she’s seen her fair few in pornos that she’s watched or in movies - some weird movies but movies nonetheless - but the dark green of her girlfriend’s harness contrasting the neon orange thickness of the dildo shaft gives a weird feeling from the sex-toy and looks incredibly strange put together. She won’t deny that on Octavia’s hips, it looks rather hot and she’s more than a little wet pressed into her boxer shorts but the remark cannot be missed, even as Octavia’s face switches to something a little more pissed off. 

“It was supposed to be black.” She admits, lips pursed and looking hot and powerful in a way that her vagina has more than noticed but she can’t let the repartee die, especially here. 

“Ah,” She says like an obvious realization has come to her, “Halloween colors.” 

Octavia tries to grind her teeth in annoyance - a habit Bellamy scolds her for whenever he sees her do it but turns Raven on badly, feeling like she’s the prey to an animal when she does it - but a smile slips and she laughs gently, “Shut the fuck up.” 

Her shoulders deflate and for a moment, Raven worries that she took it too far but then Octavia asks gently, “You still wanna get fucked by it?” 

Her nod is enthusiastic and looking up at her younger girlfriend’s beautiful face, she solidifies genuinely, “Yes. Absolutely.” 

Octavia grins that sharp smile before teasing, “Still a slut for my cock. Even if it’s the colors of a pumpkin.” 

That’s a good one, she thinks but her mind is too focused on getting fucked so she leaves it. 

She’ll let Octavia win this banter match for once. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i hope you liked this! kudos and comments are great!


	7. tears shed; finn collins/clarke griffin.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> in the end of murphy's law, finn and clarke find a small amount of escapism in each other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey, finn/clarke isn't usually my boat but i really do like them and this and ahhh, this isn't a lot of content but it is out here and thankfully just enough for my muse! hope you like it!

"Clarke, Clarke," his soft murmurings are a reassurance, like a melody as she rides him, his words gentle and broken like the tears falling from the generous curves of his cheekbones - it's a broken therapy but it's the best they've got. 

"Shh," she stokes calmly, reaching down to brush his hair from his face and pulls slightly from the connect of his dark locks to the sticky salt of his tears. There is something beautiful about Finn Collins - rebel extraordinaire - being this openly vulnerable beneath her, utterly taken by the trauma and drama of the ground as well as the emotion of the sex being had. He's beautiful though, beneath her, wet eyes and trembling lips and so rawly needy as his hips jerk up into her, pushing into her with his wide girth. 

The blonde leader makes a mental note to tie him up at the hips if they ever do this again, if this isn't simply a one-time thing but even if it is, she finds herself bizarrely grateful to just have the chance. 

His hips thrust again and his small sigh is just another glorious victory she feels watching him as he stretches her out with his cock. It may be bizarre, she assumes, that she has never felt quite as powerful as she does here in their bedroom but something brilliant about how kind Finn is to have her do this for him. 

It's a weird therapy and respite for them, but it's so good and oddly intimate with them both raw like this. 

[ it will end soon, Raven's on her way to the ground already. ] 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i hope you like this! kudos and comments are great and even suggestions would be cool?

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and kudos leave me with inspiration!


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